


No Grave

by ChemicalPanic



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Depression, Heavy Angst, M/M, Overdose, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Toxic Relationship, i think i upset one of my friends with this fic, like even angstier than angst goddang, like ooft this is very sad, virgil is not okay, wtf princey get your shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 03:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18956860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChemicalPanic/pseuds/ChemicalPanic
Summary: Hi I got into this rlly cool tumblr person called @thedarkestquotes and i love them and stuff so yeah no totally pls follow them.I meant Princey to be very arrogant and harsh in this one but it turned out too feelings-y and yeah no I'm sad and gonna eat some pretzels now to quell the sadness.MASSIVE TW FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/ MENTAL ABUSEokay yeehaw let's do this





	No Grave

Organise. By shape then by colour. A nice love-heart of ruby red capsules the size of a pinky nail. Green and white thin capsules in a square. White tablets stacked into a pyramid. Light blue tablets in a cloud shape. Bright orange pills in a arrow, perfectly parallel. He pulls on his black and purple patchwork hood. More white tablets in a flower. One last cigarette and a clear purple lighter right next to it. Easy access and all. Vomiting blood is nothing new. He spares a last thought to his brother.  _ You've wanted this for a while Dee. _ A razor blade hidden away in his pocket. He traces the grout in between the tiles with a light caress.  _ Throw me in the landfill _ .

_ It's not an impulse. I want to make this, at least this, clear. This has never been an impulse.  _

"Why don't you run yourself a nice warm bath while you're at it." A cold voice says, clear and loud.

"Not now." The man sat cross-legged on the floor mutters. "Not fucking now Princey."

The voice congeals into a body, red sash catching a gleam of the white electric light. "It took you long enough, I must say." He sneers and practically glides over to the man. He  bends down to lift the man's chin with one finger. "Thomas is better off without you.  _ I'm  _ better off without you Virge." He scoffs at the tears leaking out of Virgil's eyes. "You've always been the one holding us back. I'd be glad to be the one to kill you myself." He scoffs and straightens back out. “But I don’t want blood on my lovely clothes.” He pats imaginary dust off his shoulders and straightens the pretend creases out of his jacket. Virgil looks at him with wide eyes brimming with more tears.

“I hate you.” He whispers and Roman laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and slicing into Virgil deeper than any razor he’d ever taken to his flesh.

“Now if I was you,” He crosses his arms, looking directly down at the hooded man contemplatively, “I would end my miserable existence with a little more… panache. We’ve all seen the whole ‘oh no he doesn’t love me, let’s go OD’ thing before, all 6 stale fucking inches of it. You’re a cliche even in your last moments Virge.” Virgil traces a larger heart around the red capsules and takes one between his fingers and dry swallows it with ease.

“You don’t love me.” He meant it as a question. An induced flashback to all the times Roman had told him that Virgil was special, that he was loved, wanted. It came out a realisation.

“You could always do the whole dramatic jump-in-front-of-a-train thing, but it’s quickly becoming a cliche too.” Roman ignores his ex-boyfriend and strokes his chin,  _ a cliche if I’ve ever seen one _ , Virgil thinks as he watches, entranced. He swallows a few white pills without thinking. “Well, no I guess an OD is probably perfect for you. It’s slow, it’s painful, and you will drift in and out, dying, for hours.”

“I loved you.” Virgil whispers and Roman smirks at his shaking body. 

“What’s not to love? I’m flawless. You however, are not. You fucked Thomas and me over every day since you came.” The prince leans himself against a wall opposite Virgil.

_ I’m so cold. He’s so cold. _ “I wanted to make things better.” Virgil says in a choked whisper, and then swipes at a tear and his cheeks are dry again. He clears his throat. “Fuck off Princey. I’m busy.” 

“No, I want to watch. I want to see you die. When you finish the pills, slit your wrists too, I’m sure you remember how to do it properly.” A sob tears out of Virgil’s chest and he takes a handful of the white tablets in the pyramid shape.

“Why are you doing this?” Virgil forces his eyes shut. The image of Roman with his emotionless face and crossed arms is burnt into his retina. “We were good together.”

“You’ve been fucking Thomas over his whole life, fucking  _ me  _ over, my whole life and I’ve had enough. I don’t love you, I never have.” Roman scoffs and picks up Virgil’s pack of cigarettes, palms it for a second and then lights one, taking a deep drag. “Bad habit, Virge, horrible influence you are, aren’t you?” He mutters as he keeps smoking. 

They stay silent for a minute, Virgil’s faux stability taken over by soft shaky sobs. “I wrote a sonnet for you Ro. It’s probably not in true iambic pentameter, but I want you to hear it.” Roman nods softly.

“Go on.” He motions with the hand holding the cigarette. “Your last wish. I’ll listen.”

Virgil clears his throat, head already foggy with the xanax.

“I disconnect myself from the network

I glitch out to abyss and let it in

I gulp in the depths and breathe the sea, sin

I'm sin. Suspend in the solution, lurk

I am the eternal. The feared, come death sulk.

Come, death the destroyer of worlds, come in.

Breathe in the seas with me death. Drink my sin

And I will drink thine. Hold me tight my sir.

 

Lover. My beautiful lover thou breathe.

Love with me. Hold anemones with me.

Let them drink thine essence, no longer seethe

Thou art safe here lover, rest thine head, see

See mine Love, my Death. We dwell in the sand 

Together and breathe the sea, forgott'n land.”

 

Roman takes another drag, desperately trying to hold his tears back. The pain, so clear, so obvious in the whole sonnet and Roman has to use every ounce of self-control he has to keep from bounding to Virgil and dragging him to a hospital for a stomach pump. His lover is in a crumpled, sobbing mess, hoodie dominating his gaunt, almost emaciated frame and legs at strange angles as his arms hang limp by his sides. “Run yourself a warm bath Virge.” Roman clears his throat, desperately trying to erase the teary huskiness of his voice. Virgil tilts his head up, the perfect image of pain and confusion. Roman walks over on an impulse. He blinks himself back into reality. Virgil doesn’t move. “For fuck’s sake Virge.” Roman moves even closer and kneels in front of the sobbing man. He reaches behind the man, exposing his neck to the shaky breaths escaping his lover’s lips. He turns the tap and a thick stream of water pours into the tub, and knocks in Virgil’s favourite lavender soap bar too, the bubbles starting to form already. “I know this is hard, but it’s something you  _ have _ to do. I’m glad you’ve decided to do this yourself.” Roman pulls back and presses his lips to Virgil’s forehead.

“I’m suicidal Roman.  I’m so crippled, ok, mentally, that I want to end my life, my  _ only _ life, as far as I know. Don’t you think that’s sad? Don’t you think that’s fucked up?” Roman gives a soft smile.

“ _ Malo mori quam foedari _ . Death rather than dishonour Virge. You’re hurting me and you’re hurting Dad, and you’re hurting  _ Thomas _ . We swore to protect him, and you’re hurting him.” He speaks softly against Virgil’s forehead, holding on to his shoulders, not wanting to let go of his first real boyfriend so soon. “So you see? It just makes sense this way.” 

The man gives another soft sob. “I’m scared Roman.”

“I know, my prince, I know it’s scary.” Roman croons just as his lover snakes his arms around his waist. “I thought if I hurt you, it’d be easier for you to… do it. But I’m sorry, I can’t hurt you again. Even though you gave Thomas his first panic attack yesterday, I can’t hurt you. Patton was sobbing all day, Logan, Dee or Remy… Even me, we couldn’t comfort him, he was a wreck. Logan just took over my shift and he’s still sobbing. Even in Logan’s arms in their bed Virge, he’s still crying.” Roman feels a tear drip onto and through his white trousers. “I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you’re hurting everyone you come in contact with. Even Logan is second-guessing his vocabulary.” Virgil gives a soft huff.

“So this is the end?” He asks, his voice small and high, just like it was when he first came to live with the rest of the Sides. Roman gives a soft smile. Cycles are a magical thing. 

“Yeah Virge.” The prince has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop his tears. “I… I love you.”

“I love you too Princey.” Virgil sighs, breathing in the sandalwood cologne that has coloured many of his dreams with its soft warmness. “I hope Logan can take over the healthy parts of my effects. He’s always been good at being smart.” Roman opens his eyes and pulls his head away for a last glance at Virgil. His eyeshadow has become pure black, corrupting the tears that pass through it into the blackness with no loss of intensity. “I’m… I’m sorry. I… I hurt you, I hurt your work and I made Thomas hurt and I just wish I would have done this before the panic attack, before I hurt Thomas like that, I’ve always been just an inconvenience, Roman, Roman when did I become this  _ disease _ ?” He’s a terrifying, contradicting mix of hysterical and catatonic, rapidly swinging between the two.

“I don’t know Virge… I don’t know.” Roman whispers and stands up, letting Virgil’s arms fall back limpy by his sides. “It’s warm in the bath, come on Virge; you’re freezing.” Roman picks up Virgil, his emaciated body horrifyingly light and sharp in his arms, and gingerly places him into the bath getting his own jacket sleeves wet in the process.

“This is nice Roman. It’s warm.” Roman nods and lets out a soft sob as Virgil curls in on himself.

“Do you… Do you want to have your cigarette before or after the…” Roman doesn’t finish the sentence. Can’t finish the sentence.

“After. I want to smoke after. I know it’s going to hurt… after.” Virgil closes his eyes, tears still pouring down.

“I’ll get you some water Virge.” Roman moves to stand up but Virgil blindly grabs at him.

“There’s a bottle in the sink. That one.” Roman nods, mostly just for himself, considering that his lover, his emaciated, broken,  _ dying _ lover can’t see the confirmation. The bottle is a water bottle of deep red wine.

“You bought me that bottle for our five year anniversary. I… opened it yesterday and drank… probably half, trying to forget the bitter taste of panic, the claws tearing up my throat and out of me, trying to forget your sandalwood, your permanent strawberry taste, I had to try. Then… I got  _ this idea _ and I kept what was left of the wine and drank a bottle of cheap vodka.” Roman opens the bottle and takes a small sip, swishing it softly around his mouth.

“Try now.” Roman leans down and brushes his lips against Virgil’s. He engages without further prompting and more tears stream down his face, his wet hand holding Roman’s cheek gently, just like they used to.

Roman pulls away but Virgil still doesn’t open his eyes. He sits up, reaching for the pills. Roman scoops them up, pile by pile and places them softly in his hand. Virgil both isn’t thinking and thinking too much.  _ What’s after death? Will Roman cry? Will Thomas be okay? What will Dad say? Why is this so easy but so hard, all at once? When will I actually die? How painful is this kind of death? _ When the pills are all gone, so is the wine, bar a few drops at the bottom. He holds out his hand and Roman wordlessly presses the cigarette and the lighter into his palm. He lights it and Roman stands up to leave. Just as he’s about to leave, he hears a soft rendition of his name from Virgil.

“It’s still strawberry.” He says ruefully, and Roman sobs once more and closes the door.


End file.
